The Bartender
by MrsAlwaysWrite
Summary: Sandor frequents the small town bar with his friends to relax and have a good time. Things change though when a beautiful, red-headed bartender begins working there. Soon, its not the beer and game of pool that continues to draw him back. Supposed to be a one-shot but I kept writing...


The Bartender

Sandor relaxed in the bar chair, hand wrapped around the beer bottle beside him. The table he sat next to showcased the number of beer bottles having been consumed already. Thankfully not all by him. Jamie and Tormund took their turn playing a game of pool just a few feet away from where Sandor sat. Bronn sat on the other side of the table, teasing Tormund about the woman he had been infatuated with lately. This was the typical setting on the first evening of their day off. The four of them were firefighters, had been working together for years in this small town. Their schedule was three days at the station and three days off. It was odd but it worked for their small station. The first night of their day off, traditionally, the four of them met at the local bar to celebrate. The Wall was your typical small town bar with neon signs on the walls, dark colors and the competing smell of cigarette smoke and booze. It was owned by an older man, Benjen Stark, who used to be a local cop but took over the bar after he retired. With no wife or kids, the bar was the man's life. Sandor liked the grizzled, no-shit-taking, snarky man. Benjen had taking a shining to the four of them, occasionally giving them drinks on the house if he heard about a tough job.

Tonight, just as in every night within the past two weeks, he could not keep his eyes from drifting to the bar counter. Bronn said her name was Sansa…Sansa Stark, niece of Benjen's. Whatever her name was, she was truly the most magnificent, beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon. Her skin was alabaster, her bright red hair in a bun on the top of her head, her vivid blue eyes were enough to convince a man to give his soul to her freely. Tonight she wore a pair of jeans with some jewels on the back pockets, and a lacy shirt that was modest in coverage but form fitting. Large hoop earrings dangled from her ears and she had the faintest tint of red on her lips. She was a vision…and he could barely work up the courage to have a conversation with her. Of course her appearance had caused quite the stir among the patrons of the bar. Most of the men who visited The Wall were late twenties to sixties, a blue-collar crew. He was in the younger part of crowd, just having turned thirty earlier that year. Few women came and if they did, it was either because they were considered one of the guys or they were looking to get laid. Sansa looked like a masterpiece amongst children's finger-paintings.

"Hey, Sandor?" Bronn called over, apparently having tried to get his friend's attention already.

"What?"

"Stop eye-fucking the girl and go get us another round."

Sandor glared at him. "I wasn't eye-fucking, stupid cunt."

"Oh ho!" Bronn leaned back chuckling, his typical smirk appearing. "Well whatever you were doing, you owe the next round. Pay up."

Sandor grumbled but dragged himself up; he walked over to the bar counter before someone else said something worthy of being punched. He could feel his mouth going dry as he thought of speaking to her but licked his lips quickly. She was helping another man, an off duty cop that Sandor recognized. So he sat on a bar stool to wait his turn. She finished up then glanced over and noticed him. A smile lite her face and he wondered if the sun had as much warmth as she did.

"Hey, Sandor. Another round?"

He nodded brusquely, not trusting his voice. She leaned down to grab the bottles from the fridge under the bar and he could not help but stare at her ass.

"Here you go." She carefully placed the four bottles of Budweiser in front of him. "Rough shift?"

It had actually been quiet which was nice. Except he could not stop thinking about her. "No, they always drink more when arguing about football."

"Who do you cheer for?"

His mind went blank. This was the longest they had spoken and he was losing the ability to make coherent conversation with her eyes looking into his. He said the first thing that came to mind. "Whoever is winning."

She giggled, eyes crinkling as her shoulders bounced. "I like that." He thought it may have been the most beautiful sound he ever heard. His friends had all talked to her, particularly Bronn who enjoyed flirting and getting laid whenever possible. He had heard her laugh across the bar as she talked with them or another patron but he had never been the cause of it.

He mumbled something incoherently and was getting ready to dart away when she reached a hand out and gently placed it on his large one. Her pale skin seemed illuminated against his tan skin and neon lights.

"It's none of my business but can I ask you something?"

He nodded again, eyes drawn up to her face from their touching hands.

"Your scar…was it a fire while working?"

He sat dumbfounded by her question, surprised she asked him. Most people looked away or tried to ignore it. The rare few asked his friends, too afraid to confront him about it. It was a hideous thing. The majority of the left side of his face was burn scars, the ridges and grooves overlapped to create a monstrous complexion. "No, I was a child." He did not like to talk about what his older brother had done to him. The memory still haunted him, the pain had been dulled over time and therapy but it was still something that would define him his whole life.

"Is that why you became a firefighter?" Her voice was soft, intimate, captivating.

He could count on one hand how many people knew this about him. Before he realized it, she had joined the count. "One of the reasons." It was in her eyes. He expected pity but instead he saw…understanding.

Leaning further over the counter, her hand leapt from his to the scarred side of his face. She tenderly placed her palm against his cheek, eyes gazing into his. "You're brave, Sandor. Not many could face their fears like you. Thank you for telling me." After speaking, her hand returned to her side and she stood up straight, a thoughtful look upon her lovely face.

"Yeah, I should get back." He mumbled out, grabbing the beers and heading back to his friends. His cheek felt hot where her hand had been pressed to his skin. He was a large man, almost pushing seven feet tall with broad shoulders and thick muscles due to his work and love of working out. In that moment though, with her hand upon his cheek and eyes interlocked, he felt small like a child with a mother's comforting touch. He shook his head, trying to clear the clouds from his mind, wondering if his cheeks were flushed.

"Damn, took long enough." Tormund joked, snagging a beer from Sandor as Jamie took his turn hitting the cue ball. Sandor wondered if they noticed his interaction with Sansa but wisely chose not to ask. His muddled mind needed to sort through what just occurred. The rest of their time there he could not help but quick glance over at Sansa. He was not positive but he thought he caught her glancing over their way too.

The next two nights he found himself sitting on a bar stool alone, nursing a few beers and watching the beautiful bartender. It had not even been a conscious decision that first time. It felt more magnetic. Something was pulling him there and he did not have the strength to pull away from its grip. The two nights had been during the middle of the week so the pace of patrons was slow. Sansa struck up a light-hearted conversation with him that continued when she was not helping a customer. He found himself soaking her words in, learning about her and he, surprisingly, reciprocated and sharing things about himself. He learned her drink of preference was Jameson whiskey, she loved caramel, walking on the beach at sunset was her perfect date. Her favorite movies were action, particularly the Bourne series. She had been working on the other side of the country in the capital as a manager of a downtown boutique; but decided she needed a break from the pace of the city and took up her uncle's offer to help out at his bar for an indefinite period. He shared that during his days off from the station, he spent it working on the two-story fixer-upper house he had purchased a year ago. His plan was to flip it for a profit then buy another house and start the process over. She appeared genuinely interested when he spoke about what he had done and upcoming plans. It felt good to just talk to someone.

The second night he thanked the gods he was there because a fight broke out between two inebriated construction workers. Sandor easily broke up the fight, bashing both of their heads on a nearby table and kept them pinned down until the cops came to pick them up. Most of the patrons left, out of courtesy, once the drunken men were arrested. Sandor started to follow the few stragglers but was stopped.

"Sandor, wait!"

He paused by the front door, after allowing an elderly man to step around him and leave.

Sansa came up beside him, her royal blue, cold-shoulder blouse drawing out the blue in her eyes and red in her hair. "I hate to bother you but could you help me? I can't lift the tables and that one needs to be taken out back." She nodded to the one in which Sandor bashed the men's heads against. It had been dented during the fight and looked like it could use some repair.

"Sure. I'll take care of the chairs too." His voice felt hoarse with her standing right next to him, eyes gazing up. He easily over a foot taller than her. She seemed so small next to him, he was afraid to touch her that he might accidently hurt her.

"Thank you, you're truly a lifesaver. Just set the table right outside the back door. I'll take care of it tomorrow…you might as well just throw those chairs in the dumpster." She walked over and locked the front door, turning the open sign off. "We can walk out together when you're done if you want."

He nodded, wondering if he would ever be able to tell her no. She smiled then quickly grabbed a spray bottle and rag to wipe down the bar and tables. Maneuvering the table through the small back door was difficult and a few colorful words slipped form his lips in exasperation but he finally managed to wrangle the stupid thing out. When he came back through the back room, he froze in the doorway. While he was out, she must have pulled out her phone and turned on some music besides the Oldies Benjen liked to have in the background. The song 'Tennessee Whiskey' by Chris Stapleton was playing and she was singling along, oblivious to his presence. She moved around the room like a dream, an almost dance to her step. She had taken her hair out of its typical bun and the long, red locks cascaded down to her mid-back. She was mesmerizing. He watched her, unable to remove his eyes from the scene before him, hoping he never forgot this image of grace and beauty as long as he lived.

Eventually she looked around and caught him staring at her. She blushed, tucking her hair behind her left ear. "If you grab those chairs we can head out."

He would have gladly given his next paycheck to know what she was thinking. Was she blushing because she caught him staring? Was it because he caught her dancing around and singing so lovely? Was it because they were alone in her uncle's bar? He grabbed the two broken chairs, having been used as weapons during the fight. Sansa followed him out, turning off the lights and locking the door behind them.

"You start your rotation tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Here." She held out a napkin. "Text me, if you want. I've gotten used to having you around. Who else will I talk to about the merits of the perfect barbeque sauce?"

She was teasing him but he could not help the smile that plastered itself on his ugly face. He suddenly felt giddy like a school boy. Reaching out, he took the napkin, their fingers touching a moment before he stuck it in his pocket. "I'm sure you'll find someone to talk to."

"Maybe, but it won't be you." She stepped forward and cupped his scarred cheek. The faint streetlights cast unwanted shadows upon her divine face but it did not diminish the vividness of her eyes. "Stay safe, I'll see you in a few days." With that, she turned and started walking across the back lot to a small coupe car, he guessed was hers. He slowly started walking towards his own pick-up truck on the side street. His face felt flushed, he needed to be at work in seven hours but he doubted he would be able to sleep. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched her pull away, taillights fading. He knew his heart had gone with her. He was falling for her. Inevitably she would reject him, that was what fate always threw at him. She was a beauty, an angel and he was a beast, a monster. She deserved so much better than him. His hand gripped the napkin in his pocket, her phone number swiftly written on it in Sharpie. The heartache would come, but perhaps he could enjoy the attention for now. Also there was no way he was telling the guys about this.

Sandor did not think he had ever been so distracted during his rotation nor ready for it to end. It took him a good twelve hours to work up the courage to text her but she responded within the hour. They had a continuous conversation during the three days. At one point he had joked that he was sick of seeing the same ugly faces of his coworkers. After that she had sent a selfie, and made sure to send one each morning. Those pictures got him through those three day but also tormented him because it was only a taste of the real thing. His friends noticed his distracted attitude and his unusual, persistent use of his phone. Tormund tried to swipe it at one point but luckily Sandor had a lock on the screen so they did not see the pictures or messages. Jamie finally corned him on their last day, telling him to get his shit together or tell him what was going on. Sandor turned his phone off for a few hours, determined to stay focused and not let his coworkers down, nor give them anymore reason to suspect something. Their rotation finally ended and it was agreed upon to visit The Wall that night per usual.

Evening arrived as did the four off-duty firefighters to the bar. It was a Sunday so there was some steadiness of patrons but not full like a Friday or Saturday night. Both Sansa and Benjen were working behind the bar. Tormund and Jamie went to secure their typical pool table in the back before anyone else tried to take it over. Bronn and Sandor went up to the bar to grab the first round of beers.

"Hello, beautiful." Bronn greeted as Sansa came over to help them.

"Hey Bronn, hey Sandor. The usual?" She asked smiling but it did not reach her eyes. Something was off. Her eyes seemed to dart around and she acted wary. She handed them the four beer bottles, opening a tab.

"Thanks. Lemme know when you're up for that date." Bronn winked, leaning against the counter.

Sansa laughed then caught Sandor's eye. He waited until Bronn walked away towards their friends before speaking.

"Sansa, what's wrong?"

She looked around nervously before meeting his eyes again and lowering her voice. "Could…can you pretend to be my boyfriend?"

That was the last thing he expected. "What?"

"It's nothing. Forget it."

"Sansa, please. I can do it. What's going on?"

Her eyes began to glisten but she quickly blinked away the tears. "Its probably nothing." She seemed to hesitate but leaned closer to him, voice barely above a whisper. "My ex. I'll…I'll explain more later. I don't even know if he's going to come. I thought I saw him…"

Fear. Fear radiated from her, it was subtle but there. Sandor could feel his anger rising at this unknown man who, with only the thought of him possibly coming, caused Sansa to seek protection. "It's ok, you don't have to explain. I'll be sitting right over there if you need me. I'll stay the whole night, if that helps." He was not going to let any man touch her.

A sad, soft smile crossed her face. "Thank you. I owe you."

"How about a round on the house when its my turn to pay?"

She laughed. "I think I can make that work. I guess I should get back to work. Bye, baby." She winked then strolled down the bar to join her uncle at the other end.

He sat stunned for a long moment before shaking his head slightly and moving towards his friends. If she kept doing things like that he was going to lose all ability to think and speak coherently. He walked towards the table next to the pool table that would give him an unobstructed view of the bar and Sansa. She had herself a guard dog for the night, intended or not.

"What was that?" Bronn asked, holding a pool stick in his hand, eyeing Sandor. He was waiting for his turn as Jamie made his shot from the other end of the pool table.

"She asked how big your pecker was."

"What did you say?"

Sandor smirked. "Smallest one I've ever seen."

The guys laughed. Bronn lamented how he would never get a date now. Sandor chuckled along with them but kept an eye on Sansa, wondering who this ex was that scared her so.

He did not have to wait long. In the next hour, a couple of guys walked into the bar and he saw Sansa visibly stiffen, her lips pressed tight. He wondered which asshole it was he was going to have to fight. The guys took over a table against the wall, close to the TV to watch the football game. One of the guys broke away from the group to take a seat on a bar stool at the counter. Benjen had stepped into the back leaving Sansa alone. She curtly spoke to the man. Obviously he did not order a drink, too many words were spewing from his lips. Before he finished, Sansa filled a pint and handed it to him then walked away. The man glared at her but took a sip anyway. Once Benjen came back out, Sansa wasted no time at setting four beer bottles on a tray and coming over to where Sandor and the guys were. She was wearing a black, tight skirt that molded to her curves, it only reached her mid-thigh in length. Her top was a loose, flowy, green blouse, her typical hoops exchanged for gold studs. As she walked by, men's gazes followed her and Sandor wanted to pound their heads in. She was not his though, even though she asked to pretend. She would not really want him.

"Hey, beautiful. I knew you couldn't resist my charm." Bronn smirked, leaning on the pool stick to ogle her.

She smiled, placing the tray on the empty table next to them. "It was hard but you're right."

"What's this?" Jamie asked, eyebrows raised as she put the four new bottles on the table Jamie and Sandor sat at.

"On the house. Benjen's orders."

"Well tell the old man thanks." Jamie saluted her with one of the new bottles.

"Of course." Before she could turn away, Sandor snagged her hand gently, not caring what his friends thought.

"That him?" He softly asked, eyes searching hers. It was not his business, they hardly knew each other. Yet a protectiveness had arisen within him at seeing her fear that he could not push away.

She twisted her hand so instead of his holding hers, their hands were intertwined. To further his surprise, she moved to his side and tenderly kissed his scarred cheek. "His name is Joffrey." She whispered in his ear before releasing his hand. "Thanks, baby." She said loud enough for those around to hear before grabbing the tray and heading back to the bar counter.

Sandor sat stunned, again. She had to quit doing that to him. He could not help the rush of warmth that threatened to overtake him between their entwined hands and her kiss. His moment of bliss ended abruptly from the shocked, confused and wolfish looks of his friends and a few surrounding men that heard her comment.

"What in seven hells was that?" Bronn asked, clearly still shocked. Sandor could not blame him. He was still in shock himself. Out of his friend, and most men, he was unquestionably the least attractive by far.

"Sandor?" Jamie verbally nudged, glancing between Sansa and Sandor.

Sandor did not remove his eyes from the bar to answer his friend gruffly. "I'll tell you later." Sansa's ex, Joffrey, was glaring daggers at him, his scowl marring what probably would have been a handsome face into an ugly one, full of loathing. Sandor stared back, not willing to lose this simple battle of wills. Joffrey eventually turned around on his stool, turning his scowl to Sansa. Sandor surveyed the punk. He looked about Sansa's age, mid-twenties. He was clearly white-collar, probably a lawyer or banker for he was quite overdressed for this bar in the three-piece suit he wore. If the punk worked out, it did not show. He looked far too lean. It would be an easy fight for Sandor if it came to it.

Over the next hour, he kept a constant eye on the punk and Sansa, on a couple of occasions considering stepping in. Joffrey ordered pint after pint. Sandor wondered how much longer he would be able to sit on the bar stool. As time passed, it seemed Joffrey was quietly making comment, threats, insults, Sandor was not sure but Sansa's countenance changed when he spoke and at one point looked like she was going to cry. Just before he stood up to intervene, she caught his eye and quickly shook her head. He sat back down warily, passing his turn at the pool table.

A short bit later, Joffrey seized one of her wrists roughly as she slid another pint to him. Her eyes widened as he said something to her. She tried to pull away but he held her fast. She mumbled something as she tried to tug out of his grip. Suddenly he laughed, pulled her further over the counter and back handed her across the face. Sandor was towering over the punk in an instant. He grabbed the punk's scrawny neck and slammed his head against the counter, keeping his head pinned down.

"I think its time for you to go." Sandor hissed, struggling to hold himself back from beating the punk bloody. A glance showed Sansa holding a hand to her face, eyes wide, watching.

Joffrey's eyes were glossy as he glared venom. "Fuck you! Do you know who I am?! You can't do this to me!"

Sandor's grip tightened threateningly. He leaned closer, getting in the punk's face. "I don't give a shit who you are. If you don't leave right now, I will fucking kill you slowly and to hell with the consequences. Understand?" He growled out, not hiding his fury in his tone.

Apparently it scared the inebriated punk enough for his eyes to widen. He gave a curt nod. Sandor's grip slowly released, making sure the punk was not going to try and take a swing at him.

Joffrey sat up, eyes burning. His gaze turned to Sansa. "Slut." He spat out before staggering off the stool, towards the door.

"Jamie." Sandor called over, watching the punk walk through the door.

"On it." Jamie and Bronn followed the drunken fool to make sure he actually left and to convince him otherwise if he tried to return.

Without a second thought, Sandor walked to the end of the bar where Sansa now stood. He opened his arms just in time before she barreled into him, burying her face in his chest. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he pulled her into him, feeling her shaking.

"Come on, baby. Let's go sit." Sandor whispered to the top of her head. He caught a quick nod from Benjen who stood behind the counter eyeing the two of them. With some convincing, he led her to his seat in the back corner. He sat down as she practically collapsed in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He kept his arms around her, holding her like a small child being comforted. A look at Tormund sent his friend to check on the others, giving the two of them some hint of privacy.

After a few minutes she leaned her head back to look at him. Her blue eyes were watery but no tears escaped. A wavering smile tried to stay on her lips. "Thank you."

He brushed a few loosened strands of hair behind her ear. "It's ok. I got you."

The front door opened and his three friends walked back in. They came back to their corner, returning to their prior spots as if nothing had happened. Sandor raised an eyebrow, looking between the three for an explanation.

"He won't be bothering up anytime soon." Jamie spoke first, rubbing the chalk on the tip of the pool stick casually. "We left him in the back seat of his car."

"Is he passed out?" Sandor asked, keeping his hold on Sansa.

Bronn smirked. "He wasn't but a little encouragement helped knock him out."

Sandor smiled understanding. They made sure he would not be getting up anytime soon.

"You doing ok, Sansa?" Jamie asked concerned.

She nodded, turning to face them but still sitting on Sandor's lap, their knees facing towards the pool table. "Thank you. My ex…let's just say he does not agree with my breaking up with him." Sandor snorted behind her, causing her to turn around and give him a quick smile. His arms were still wrapped around her waist, her hands placed over his in front of her. Her shaking had subsided considerably but neither of them seemed ready to released their embrace just yet.

"Well glad to help. Your turn, Tormund." Jamie casually remarked, turning his attention back to the forgotten game.

Bronn slid onto the chair across the table from them. "So…you two, eh?" A wolfish grin dominated his features. Sandor was not sure what to say, they were only supposed to be pretending. He could not lie that he loved the feel of her in his arms and her ass in his lap. It was almost too much to handle.

"Yeah, it's still pretty new." Sansa answered shyly causing Sandor's heartrate to triple. "We were going to have our first date tomorrow."

"Oh really? And what was this fucker going to do to show you a good time?"

She glanced back at him, a coy smile on her face. "We talked about catching a movie. Something easy."

"What? He would. A woman like you needs to be wined and dined on a first date. Red roses, red wine, the whole thing!" Bronn pretended to be horrified causing Sansa to giggle.

"And what would you suggest we do?" She asked, leaning forward and snagging an unopened beer bottle. A discussion between the two of them began about what needed to happen on a first date and what implications there were depending on what was done and the actions that followed afterwards. Jamie and Tormund occasionally threw in their opinions on the matter, creating a lively, fun banter. At one point Sansa moved Sandor's hands from embracing her waist downward for his hands to be on her hips. He found himself rubbing his thumbs along her hips, feeling her tight skirt. A stray thought had him wondering if she was wearing a thong or no underwear because he could not feel any lines under her skirt. Quickly he tried to turn his mind away from that train of thought before he got a hard on and she would definitely feel that through her thin attire. Her hair smelled of lavender and he could not help leaning forward to get a better whiff. Eventually Tormund got another round for all, including Sansa who prettily sipped on the beer bottle, grasping it lightly. Her lips were full and perfect, demanding to be kissed. Every time she lifted the bottle to her lips, Sandor did not think he could envy a beer bottle more.

The group discussion turned to football and Sandor was pleasantly surprised as Sansa could hold her own talking about the different teams and players, clearly demonstrating her knowledge of the game. He sat back and listened, throwing in a remark occasionally but content to enjoy the heated, hilarious discussion and feel the warmth of the beautiful woman in his lap. He never felt ignored by her as she talked with his friends as if they had known each other for years. This was his favorite night at the Wall, hands down.

The night was winding down as Sandor helped Sansa move the bottles to the bar counter. His friends were walking out the door, having bid them good night and a few sly winks. Sansa had stayed with them, mostly sitting on his lap until she challenged Tormund to a pool game. The battle of the red-heads, she called it. Now, she walked behind the counter to dispose of the glass bottles. Most of the patrons had left by this point, midnight was Benjen's closing time on a Sunday night. The older man shuffled over to where Sandor stood on the other side of the bar counter.

"Take her home, your place, her place. Leave her car. That fucker knows what she drives." The man was gruff but Sandor could sense tenderness behind his solemn voice. Benjen cared for his niece. Sansa came out from the back at that moment, a smile on her face when she caught Sandor's eye. His heart melted. Every time she smiled at him, touched him or was anywhere in his presence, he felt like a puddle. If this pretense kept up any longer, they would have to mop his massive body off the floor.

"Grab your purse, Sansa. He's driving you home." Benjen jerked his head in Sandor's direction. "I'll finish up here."

"Ok, thanks Uncle Benjen." She disappeared momentarily in the back before coming out with her small purse, slung over her shoulder. Giving her uncle's grizzled cheek a quick peck, she came around the car to Sandor's side. He placed a large hand on her lower back, guiding her as they walked out of The Wall and to his pick-up truck.

She easily slipped onto the bench seat in his truck after he held the door open for her. He was surprised after he got behind the wheel and started down the road when she slid next to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to pretend anymore." He was not sure what prompted him to say that. Yes he wanted her against him, yes he wanted to smell her hair, yes he wanted to hear her quiet breathing, but not if it was a show.

She looked up at him, a hurt expression on her lovely face. "I'm not…do you want me to stop? To leave you alone?"

Before he made a conscious decision, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his side. He found himself pressing his lips to the top of her head quickly, unable to control himself anymore. They rode in silence after she told him their destination. No music. No talking. Just the sound of the engine and their breathing filled the air. Sandor wished they could stay like that all night but they arrived to the motel much sooner than he liked.

"You been staying here?"

"Yeah," She did not moved from his side even though he had parked. "Uncle Benjen has been staying with a friend until he can fix the water damage and mold at his place."

"This is probably not what you were expecting when you came out here, huh?"

"It's better than where I was." She whispered sadly.

He paused. "Joffrey?"

Her breathing hitched, as if she was holding back a cry. He brought his other arm around her, placing his head on top of hers. "Its ok, baby. I won't let him find you. I promise. I got you, girl." He murmured into her hair, running his hand along her arm, hoping it was comforting. They sat that way for several minutes, his warmth and touch comforting her. Eventually she leaned back to look into his face.

"Thank you again, for everything."

He ran a thumb along her pale cheek, wondering how he had gotten so lucky.

"And I was serious about our first date tomorrow."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Don't you work?"

"No, its my day off. I'm free all day. Only if you want too though." She looked away shyly as she said the last part.

Seeing her profile under the moonlight he was struck again with how beautiful she was. "I would love to spend the day with you."

"Ok." She sat up straight and Sandor removed his arms from around her. He grabbed the steering wheel to keep himself from reaching for her, the need to touch her one last time. This felt like a heavenly dream and he feared once she left, he would wake.

"Text me tomorrow?"

"Sure." He replied a bit hoarsely. He had not noticed until now but her tight skirt was hitched up higher on her thighs due to her sitting down revealing more of her long, slender legs.

Quick as a snake, she leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to his lips then retreated before he could get his hands on her. She was out the passenger door, laughing at his shocked expression. Closing it, she headed up to her motel room, just in front of where they had parked with an extra sway to her hips.

She waved once she unlocked her door then slipped inside. Sandor waved back then started his truck and pulled out of the parking spot. He backed up to a secluded, shadowy part of the parking lot. There was no way he was leaving her alone tonight. There were only two motels in their small town. If Joffrey was staying in town, there was a high chance this was the motel. Sandor pushed his seat back to stretch his legs better, turning on the radio. She did not know it but her guard dog was not going to leave her unprotected. His fingers drifted to his lips, the feeling of the brief kiss lingering. No, he would not leave her. He settled himself in for a long night, cracking open a Red Bull he found behind his seat.

They caught an early movie, sharing a bucket of popcorn in between them. Apparently Bronn's argument of what Sansa deserved for a first date had no effect. Sandor tried to keep his eyes on the screen but he found they kept drifting to the beauty beside him. Her red hair was down, flowing along her shoulders and back. She wore a lacy black dress that showed just enough skin to drive him crazy. He wanted to kiss her passionately and to feel her body fully against his. He had told himself that he would wait for her. He was not willing to push her further than she was willing. Whatever happened between her and Joffrey, he did not want to create more negative memories for her. So he kept his hands to himself, only casually throwing a arm around her.

After the movie they walked along the pier nearby, getting ice cream and enjoying the sun. They talked, her pestering him with random questions or just being in silence, enjoying one another's presence. Afterwards she insisted he show her his place. She wanted to see the work he had done after hearing about it so much. He obliged her, not wanting to end their time together anyway.

As they walked through the front door, he hesitantly told her more about it. It was 1940s old farmhouse, three bedroom, one and half bath, two story. A basement underneath and a wrap around porch in need of much repair. He was currently redoing the flooring in what he had deemed as the living room, putting in new carpet to replace the '70s tile. She followed his lead as they circled the first floor, asking questions, making a couple attentive suggestions. They stopped at the bay windows in the dining room, although there was yet to be a table, overlooking the river at the back of the property.

"You have a beautiful home."

He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Its not there yet, but I'm hoping soon."

Turning to face him, she grabbed his hand. Their eyes met, holding one another's. It felt as if time ceased to exist and he drowned in the depth of her blue eyes. Ever so slowly she took the step closer to him and placed his hands on her hips. Reaching forward, she pulled his head down and stood on her toes. Sandor felt as if he had stopped breathing. Her pink lips parted, her eyes tracing his face. They stood frozen for a long moment, noses barely touching, a hesitation. Like the stillness before the plunge. The quiet before the storm. It surrounded them. Yet the fire in them was stronger.

Sandor leaned further and pressed his lips to her, closing his eyes. Her mouth opened and his responded. His hands pulled her closer to him, one on her lower back and the other against the back of her neck. Her hands pulled his head further to her, desperate for their touch to deepen. Her tongue darted into his mouth and he felt a moan escape from his lips. His tongue quickly found hers and they danced. Meanwhile his hands began exploring her body, pressed so tightly against his. His blood was hot and his body ached for her. Although he did not mind their height difference, in that moment it infuriated him. Wrapping his hands around her thighs, he lifted her up so her face was even with his. Her legs wrapped themselves around him, her mouth never abandoning his. He took the couple steps until her back was pressed against the solid wall. Leaving her mouth, his lips tasted her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he could easily get too. Their breathing was ragged. Her nails bit into his back as his lips and tongue explored her skin. Moving his hands further up her thighs to get a better grip, her dress was pushed up slightly to reveal a secret. He leaned back just enough to look into her face, eyes full of passion. "Damn baby, you aren't wearing panties."

A smirk teased her lips. Not answering, she took his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking and biting it. "Do you have a bed upstairs?" She whispered into his ear after releasing his lip. Suddenly the tip of her tongue ran along the outside of his ear. A shiver coursed through him.

Still holding her thighs, her legs and arms wrapped around him, he carried her up the flight of stairs to the master bedroom as they continued to make out. He tossed her on the bed to a squealed delight coming from her. Ripping his shirt off, he started unzipping his pants, watching her. Slowly, seductively, she reached behind her and started unzipping her dress. It released her form to reveal her completely naked underneath. Another time Sandor could wonder where her bra was. Now his clothes could not come off fast enough. He practically tackled her onto the bed causing her to laugh but not for long as his lips, tongue and hands continued their exploration of her perfect body. Soon she was moaning, grinding her hips against his above her, digging her nails into his back. He wanted to wait until she was ready. He wanted to see and hear her reach her peak of pleasure. His hand found itself between her legs, rubbing the sensitive nub. She was so wet already. It took every ounce of his self-control to not take her right there. Her eyes were closed, head tilted back on his pillow, lips parted. She was perfection. And she wanted him, needed him like he needed her. He took one of her nipples in his mouth, tugging and teasing. Her sighs and moans increased.

"Please…oh gods, Sandor!"

He chuckled and moved to take her other nipple in his mouth, causing a delicious moan. Her hands left his back to guide his cock into her. He was a large man, well-endowed in his manhood. Yet he slipped in easily, she was so wet for him. Releasing her nipple, he began thrusting slowly at first but picking up speed as her legs wrapped themselves around his again.

"Yes! Don't stop! Gods, don't stop!"

He had no intention too. Her muscles clenched around his cock and a cry burst forth. In two more thrusts he finished inside her, feeling his pulsating cock spilling his seed deep within her. A dreamy look covered her face along with a slight sheen of sweat. Her hair was tossed along the pillow creating a red halo around her head. Reaching up, she caressed his cheek before leaning up and gently kissing his swollen lips. He kissed her back then reached over to grab a blanket at the end of the bed. He pulled it over them after he slide over to lay beside her. She nuzzled her head against his hairy chest. An arm under her head, he ran his fingers through her unbound hair. He marveled at her being in his bed, let alone naked. If she would have him, he would never let her go. It was odd they had not known each other for long, but it was something in his bones. He knew. There would never be another like her. Surprisingly they both drifted into a blissful sleep, holding one another. The cares, worries and fears of the world held at bay by their embrace.

The following week she moved in with him. It was fast but Sandor hated the idea of her alone in the motel any longer than necessary. She continued to work at The Wall, for now. He made sure it was known she was with him, the less flirting and suggestive comments made towards her, the better…for their sakes. He was not above throttling a man who thought he could win favors from Sansa. He knew it was hard on her while he was gone during his rotations. They would text but she would jokingly complain the bed was too big without him. She took to baking and cooking meals or desserts for the guys, dropping it off at the station. The guys loved her for it, Sandor was just happy to see her smiling face and receive a kiss. Three months later he surprised her with a cocker spaniel puppy whom she promptly named Lady with tears of joy in her eyes.

They laid in bed, her head resting on his expansive chest sleeping. He ran his hand through her hair laying across her naked back. The moonlight spilled in the window, casting the room in a warm glow. The sound of Lady growling in her sleep drifted up from the floor on Sansa's side of the bed. Sandor relaxed content, more content than he had ever been for most of his life. Thinking about it, he decided it was not contentment that filled him. He was happy, truly happy for the first time in his life. She had been in his life eight months now. Sure they had their fights and disagreements like all healthy couples do. He loved her though. Somehow she saw past his scars and pain and loved him back. It would never cease to amaze him. He thought of the engagement ring hidden away in his dresser drawer, pushed behind his socks. He was waiting for the right time. She had become a necessity for him. She made his life full and happy and he never wanted to be parted from her…if she would have him.

"Mmm…"Sansa sighed, sliding off his chest to curl up next to him, using his arm as a pillow. She was so beautiful, inside and out. Sandor had never believed in angels before but holding her in his arms, he knew she was his.

"I got you, baby." He murmured, kissing the top of her head. He could not wait any longer. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would ask her, find out if she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him just as much as he wanted to spend it with her. He lay there a while longer before sleep finally closed his eyes, thinking of ways to prove his devotion to her and put a ring on her finger.


End file.
